


Twisted Mister

by songflightgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attack of the bowls, Awesome movies/tv shows, Butts., CasPOV, Crampin' Sam's style, Everyone's alive, I don't care what canon says about molecules, Implied., M/M, Minding reading, Molecules are delicious, Naked., Oblivious!Dean, POV Alternating, Pie, Ridiculous hair, SO MUCH FLUFF, Shipper!Sam, Spying, Twister - Freeform, angel!cas - Freeform, because I say so, deanpov, finger lickin' good, gratuitous references, hunts, sampov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1998255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songflightgirl/pseuds/songflightgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are totally in love. Dean's just too damn stupid to see it. </p><p>Sam's getting tired of having to deal with it. </p><p>Also pie. Lots of pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pie That Changed Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wannaliveindeansdimples](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/gifts).



> This was beta'd by the every amazing TheMethodOfAwesome. Because without her I would STILL be trying to remember the word 'ravenous.' 
> 
> Also thanks to Amy Lake for spending fifteen minutes convincing me to post this finally. 
> 
> Really though, this is a thank you gift for wannaliveindeansdimples, who wrote Some Cas-anova for me. Which was a thing we decided REALLY needed to happen. Also, if you're looking for some super BAMF!Cas on the Impala action...you might check it out. I don't know. Just a suggestion. XD

It was Sam’s own fault really. 

He was the one who had suggested it. Cas had shown a mild interest when the topic was brought up, but Dean was surprised that Sam even had the damn thing. Sam got that weird light in his eyes and raced off to some dusty unknown corner of the bunker. This left Cas, Dean and Charlie ample time to watch his dust shadow disperse in confusion and bemusement respectively. 

So in reality Sam only had himself to blame for the current situation. 

Himself and his idiot brother for being so damn _temptingly_ oblivious. 

 

Their latest case had been messy. The local teen internet “sensation” had idiotically created a tulpa. A tulpa that had been a serious cramp in Sam’s style. 

“Fucking morons are lucky they didn’t get themselves killed,”Sam muttered as he scraped some goo out of his ridiculous hair, “Did you really have to make it leak flammable ectoplasm?” he whined flicking his slimy fingers at the ground. 

Dean grinned at Cas and replied “C’mon Sammy. It was the easiest way to kill it. You know that.”

“Plus your boyfriend suggested it.” Sam sassed to quietly for anyone to hear. 

“Ya know, princess, if your hair wasn’t so girly, you wouldn’t get so much ganked monster in it,” Dean smirked. 

Sam sighed, ducking to hide his mild amusement behind the trunk lid of the impala. He loved his brother, really, but sometimes he was just a big bag of dicks. In the non-angelic, metaphorical sense. 

He frowned and re-arranged a few things before throwing his blowtorch onto the haphazard pile of weaponry in the trunk. He heard Dean say something, voice muffled through the barrier created by the car. Straightening to ask his brother to repeat himself, Sam lost all ability to breath. His question ran headlong into a sharp intake of breath, causing him to make an almost silent choking noise. 

Cas was leaned back against the passenger door of the car, his head tilted to one side in that curious manner of his. Nothing unusual there. What was causing Sam’s momentary respiratory malfunction was his brother. _His_ brother, Dean Winchester, whose face was only about eight inches from Cas’, staring intently into the angel’s eyes. 

Then, adding to Sam’s intense surprise, Dean grabbed Cas’ jaw with one hand, licked the opposite thumb and dragged it over Cas’ dark eyebrow. He paused, inspecting his work, like it was perfectly normal to smear saliva over another person in front of your brother. Satisfied, he smiled and moved away.

“You done back there, bitch?” Dean shot over his shoulder before looking back at his flabbergasted brother.

“What the crap was that?” Sam hissed, looking between the two oblivious morons standing in front of him, too surprised to throw in his obligatory “jerk.” Cas had the usual perplexed look on his face. The one he got whenever something like this happened. Dean on the other hand seemed to realize what Sam had seen. He looked panicked. 

“He had...schmoop...on his eyebrow,” Dean fumbled, pointing at Cas with one hand while gesturing helplessly at his own face with the other. 

Cas chimed in helpfully. 

“I had ectoplasm on my brow. I believe Dean said something about not wanting to hide a pretty face. He was merely attempting to assist me.”

“Cas!” Dean growled, “You can’t say stuff like that out of context.” 

Dean was turning a violent shade of magenta listening to Sam’s hysterical laughter. So what if he wanted to make sure nothing marred the angel’s face. He liked looking at it. Nothing wrong with that, it was an attractive face. Plus he was an _angel of the lord_ nothing should obscure his _literally divine_ features. Dean ignored the fact that he wanted nothing more than to mess up the faces of most of the other angels. That obviously wasn't relevant. 

He flopped into the drivers seat and slammed the door in a huff.

Sam continued to snicker as he walked to the passenger side. Cas was staring at him over the black roof, perfectly aware that, as usual, he was missing the punchline. 

“Hey, Cas?” Sam’s grin widened mischievously as he opened the door and stepped to the side. 

The angel cocked his head in the other direction. 

“If you want to sit up front with Dean, I wouldn’t mind. I don’t want him to miss out on your pretty face.” 

“Sam, I swear to Cas’ dad, if you don’t get your sorry ass in the car right fucking now, I will drive off without you.” 

Still chuckling, Sam slid into the car as Dean turned on the engine irritably, encouraging Cas to finally get in the back. 

Sam noticed that Dean didn’t check his mirrors quite as often as he normally would. 

 

Before that case, there had been a nasty nest of vampires, seven of them. The boys could have handled it themselves of course, but Cas had insisted and Dean didn’t protest all that hard. In fact Dean even seemed to be enjoying himself on this hunt. The first time he’d had fun since that whole LARPing thing with Charlie. Before that...Dean wasn’t even sure himself when the last time he’d had fun was. 

Hunting with Cas was different than hunting with Sam. Cas was an angel. He couldn’t be killed by the average monster they came across. Not only that, but he was _deadly_. Fast, efficient and a fearsome sight to behold. 

Dean was not getting turned on watching him behead vampires.

He _wasn’t_. 

He pretended not to notice when Sam caught him staring. He also pointedly ignored the knowing looks thrown his way. Whatever Sam thought was happening, he was wrong. Nothing was going to happen. Cas is an angel. Angels aren’t interested in humans. Not in that way. 

Especially not with broken humans, humans who fall stupid in love with them. Not that Dean was in love with Cas. That would be idiotic. A very unintelligent move that couldn’t lead anywhere. 

He was tired of having to remind himself of that. 

 

Sam was ready to give up looking for a case. It was a few days after the tulpa and there was nothing. And given the lack of world saving to do, the boys decided to take a short stay-cation. Garth or Bobby would call if something important turned up. Plus, Sam had a whole pile of books he had been dying to get to. While Dean had a box of movies and shows that Cas, as a semi-permanent inhabitant of the planet, had a moral obligation, to see. 

Since moving into the bunker, Dean had started a collection of his favorites. He’d seen no problem with it now that he had a place to keep them. Before they’d been an unnecessary expense that was just as likely to get broken as anything else. A waste of time. 

Now Cas and Dean were in Dean’s room with his laptop in between them, sorting through a crate, previously used to ship fruit, full to the brim with dvd cases. 

“Okay, Cas, whaddya wanna watch first? We’ve got Star Wars, Firefly, Stargate, Hogan’s Heroes, Dirty Harry, True Grit, the original of course, Nosferatu…” Dean trailed off as Cas picked up on of the cases. 

“Good choice,” Dean said with a slow smile, “that’s one of my favorites.”

He popped the disk into the drive, jacked up the volume to max and leaned back against the headboard. 

Cas tried to sit down next to him, but Dean quickly stopped him. 

“Dude, you’re not going to wear shoes in my bed. And take off the jacket. Get comfy, we’re going to be here awhile.” 

And if Dean watched a little too closely as Cas peeled off his layers and folded them neatly on the edge of the bed, well...that was no one’s business but his own. 

 

“ _I got chills, they’re multiplying, and I'm losing control. 'Cause the power you're supplying…It's electrifying!_ ”

“Really, Dean? “ Sam snorted as he walked by the open door, “Grease?”

“It’s a classic, Sammy. Plus Cas picked it.”

“But why do you even have it?” Sam tossed over his shoulder as he moved past. 

“CLASSIC!” 

 

Sam was, as usual, reading, but Cas and Dean were driving him crazy. They’d been bickering in the kitchen all morning, making it very difficult to concentrate on Handel’s exploits. 

Dean’s, admittedly still growing, stash of movies had only lasted a week. Even with the angel, Dean could only watch so much TV, and he was ready to do something else for a while. So he was in the kitchen attempting to teach Cas how to make his favorite fudge pie and having a hard time of it. 

“Cas, you can’t just throw the whole thing in there, shell and everything,” Dean explained very patiently for the third time. 

There was a crack and a noise of irritation followed by a huff of laughter from Dean. 

“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you just sit up on that counter there and keep me company while I make the pie. ‘Kay, ba-uddy?” 

Sam’s head snapped up from the musty page. He did _not_ just hear what he thought he just heard. 

Quietly setting his book to the side, he crept up to the kitchen doorway. Peering in he saw Dean casually stirring the mix in front of him, occasionally picking out eggshells. Cas was sitting on the counter next to the stove. The heels of his dress shoes swinging slightly, his hands folded in his lap. He was staring at Dean with something that Sam could only describe as ravenous hunger. The angel looked like he had been wandering through a desert for a week and Dean was a juicy twelve ounce steak, fresh off the grill.

Dammit, now Sam was hungry too. 

Dean glanced over at Cas and held his gaze for a second. Surprise flashed across his face. 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked, clearing his throat. Because he was thirsty, not because the look Cas was giving him was...no. He looked back at the bowl. 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’s voice seemed lower than normal. Full of extra gravel and...Dean was imagining things again. This is how Cas had always looked at him, he always sounded like that, it didn’t mean anything. 

“Can you grab the small bowl on that shelf up there?” Dean nodded to the shelf above his head. His voice most definitely did _not_ get hoarse and crack like a twelve year old’s. 

Sam had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. This thing they were all pretending wasn’t at thing was becoming completely ridiculous. It only got worse when Cas leaned much closer to Dean than was strictly necessary and Sam saw his brother freeze and breathe in deeply. He even swayed slightly into Cas, his eyes closed. 

_Oh lord_ , Sam thought, _how do they not see this?_

Cas wasn’t looking at the bowl he was reaching for, his eyes were closed too. He was breathing in the smell of the hunter unbearably close to him. He smelled like wood. He smelled like leather. Like whiskey. Like the wet dirt right after one of those brief summer showers. 

Lik- 

Oops. 

Cas had leaned a little too close and brushed Dean. Who in return jumped back, startling the precariously perched angel, whose hand bumped the bowl he wasn’t paying attention to. Said bowl then tumbled off the shelf, straight past Dean’s nose and into the fudge mix below, spraying chocolatey goodness everywhere. 

Sam couldn’t help it at this point. He busted up. The idiots in front of him both whipped around, panicked and full of adrenaline. Then Deans face quickly turned red. Well, what parts Sam could see of it under the dark brown filling covering his face. Cas just looked confused again. He licked his lips, enjoying the taste of the chocolate, despite his confusion. 

“Dean, ya got a little, uh, ‘schmoop’ on your…” Sam made a motion towards his brothers face, and dissolved into more violent fits of laughter. 

Suddenly Cas got a look of clarity on his fudge covered face. With inhuman balance he leaned forward from the counter and reached around Dean, running a finger down his cheek. Ignoring Sam’s now tears of joy, he stuck the finger in his mouth. He then made an obscene noise at the taste. Dean turned to him in surprise, his jaw slack, his eyes trained on the angel’s mouth. His face was pale, the blood having rushed to other places. 

Sam was dying. He had to leave now or he’d never be able to breath again. He also really needed to text Charlie about this. 

Honestly, Sam wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. It was getting to the point where he couldn’t be in the same room as them anymore. The tension was too much. 

Something needed to be done. 

And suddenly, Sam had a wonderful, glorious plan.


	2. To The Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie comes to Sam's rescue with a twisted plan. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear up any and all confusion:  
> #1 Handmaiden is Dean  
> Rapunzel is Sam  
> Queen of Moondor and also Woman of Letters are Charlie

“Fuck you too, GLAdOS!” Charlie screeched while frantically tapping at her keyboard.

An irritable sigh filtered through her headset.

“Charlie, are you even listening right now?”

“Uh, Sam, it’s called multi-tasking. Learn how to do it, yo.”

Sam gave another annoyed exhale before replying.

“Alright, so you said you had a solution for my problem?”

Charlie had agreed to Sam’s plan almost immediately. She _knew_ Feathers and Bow-legs were attracted to each other. She’d read all the Supernatural books. It was in practically every single one. Even when the two weren’t together, they were always thinking. Thinking hot, smutty thoughts. Or even just missing the others company. It had been honestly hard for Charlie to read My Bloody Valentine. Famine had brought out the deepest hungers in all of them. Sam, of course, had still been battling his demon blood addiction at the time. Cas and Dean’s thoughts about each other had made Charlie’s ears burn. Cas had managed to hide his attraction by focusing only on his vessels addiction. In his writing, Chuck said that Dean’s amulet had allowed him some protection from Famine. Which is really the only plausible explanation considering what pornographic thoughts were flitting across his mind watching Cas eat those hamburgers.

“Twister,” she said finally.

“Twister?” Disbelief crackled over the sounds of portal shots.

“It’s simple, and as we know the simplest plans are always the best plans. We get them twisted all over each other and then the rest just takes care of itself. Your plan was too convoluted. I mean honestly, how were going to get them both to Disneyland in ballerina costumes?”

“We could’ve figured something out,” Sam grumbled moodily before continuing.

“They’re never going to just play by themselves…plus how are we going to ensure they’ll be...” he took a steadying breath, “...well you know.”

“Then we obvi need to play with them first and then we’ll bail, and Sam...I wouldn’t have thought you were a prude! Especially after what I read of you and Ruby. Whoo!” Charlie teased.

“Ha. Ha. It’s my brother. It’s awkward. It’s also awkward that you’ve read my sex life.”

“Whatever. All we have to do is bail early and then lie about what the dial says. Honestly, Sam, it’s not like you have to carry him up the side of a volcano or something.”

 

“So when do you want to start this shindig?” Sam heard more furious clicking through his fuzzy cellphone speaker.

He peered around the kitchen door frame and saw his brother wiping chocolate off of Cas with a disgustingly tender expression on his face.

“Ugh. When’s the soonest you can be here?”

 

_Queen of Moondor_ 9:41  
Greetings, Handmaiden.

_#1Handmaiden_ 9:42  
Fare tidings, Your Highness. How may I serve you today? ;)

_Queen of Moondor_ 9:42  
I am traveling near your location, and request a bed for a few nights.

_#1Handmaiden_ 9:49  
A bed, one that shall never forget you, has been made up in anticipation!

_Queen of Moondor_ 9:50  
Don’t you mean a bed that I’LL never forget? xD

_#1Handmaiden_ 9:51  
It’s memory foam. It remembers you. ;P

_Queen of Moondor_ 9:53  
Ah, I see. Come meet me, Handmaiden, for I am almost without the gates.

_I can’t wait for you to meet Cas._

Dean sucked a breath in surprise at the message. Where the hell had that come from?

He quickly deleted the text.

 

_Woman of Letters_ 9:45  
I’m driving to your top secret fortress of solitude now. Ten minutes. :D

_Rapunzel_ 9:46  
Do you have what we need?

_Woman of Letters_ 9:46  
Who do you think I am? A Shadow Orc?

_Rapunzel_ 9:47  
Of course not, Your Highness. See you soon.

_Woman of Letters_ 9:48  
Operation Destiel is a GO!  >:D

_Rapunzel_ 9:50  
I don’t even want to know what that means.

 

“Charlie!” Dean exclaimed, wrapping the tiny redhead in a giant bear hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“‘Sup, bitches?” Charlie smirked and held up her hand in a vulcanian fashion.

“So, Chuck, what brings you to town?” Sam asked, prompting Charlie for their previously discussed cover story.

“There was a LARP Con the next town over, and I thought I’d stop by and see my favorite groupies while I had the chance,” she lied flawlessly.

Sam was impressed with her skills at deceit. Though he supposed it made sense, she was practically a professional cosplayer for Cas’ dad’s sake.

Speaking of Cas…

“So, when do I get to meet the angel? According to the books he seems...dreamy…” Charlie asked as flippantly as possible, carefully gauging Dean’s reaction.

Dean frowned. The last time he’d seen Cas was when he’d made the angel breakfast. He’d smirked as he watched him react to the new foods with varied disgust and delight, enjoying the process of learning his good friends newfound tastes.

That had been a couple hours ago though. Dean wondered where he might be now. Maybe trying on some of those clothes he was considering borrowing. Both brothers had insisted that he get out of the stuffy trench coat for once, and had lent Cas some of their old stuff, mostly Dean’s. Dean could just picture him in his clothes, just the tiniest bit too big for his only slightly smaller frame...

Dean suddenly realized that several moments had passed and everyone was staring at him. Did they know what he was thinking? The couldn’t could they? Of course not. Another minute passed, they were still looking at him.

“I’ll just, hem, go find him,” he cleared his throat, “I think he was reading one of those books you lent him, Sam.”

Charlie and Sam smirked at his retreating back.

“Not that the faces he just made weren’t super entertaining, but why’d you do that?”

“Just testing, I’ve read all those books by Edlund, but I wanted to be sure that there were no artistic liberties being taken before we try to set up Feathers and Bow-Legs,” Charlie replied, grin still plastered to her face.

“Feather and Bowlegs?” Uncertainty written across Sam’s face.

“Code names.”

“Aren’t they...kind of obvious?”

“Shhhhhh, you called me, this is now my plan, you are merely a henchman at this point. I _am_ the master commander. Now show me where I’m staying.” Charlie hefted her giant novelty R2-D2 suitcase at Sam and started in the opposite direction of the bedrooms.

Sam shook his head in amusement. This was going to be a long project.

The four of them sat around one of the tables in the bunker library, stuffing their faces in an undignified manner. The pie, as it turned out, was delicious. Despite all the “help” from a certain angel of the lord.

Charlie and Cas hit it off immediately, much to the mingled surprise and delight of the two brothers. Charlie already knew most of what had happened to the group over the past couple of years, thanks to the Supernatural books and had a thousand questions about everything. While Cas seemed to find her perpetual cheer and nosiness amusing, even if he didn’t understand half of what she said.

Now though, Sam and Charlie were discussing a book about hunting things specific to the rivers, lakes and ponds of the north west. Lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to put Charlie’s dubiously named “Operation Destiel” into effect. Dean was cleaning his guns, the ones with bullets, and not noticing Cas staring at him. An occurrence that had the other two in the room wincing internally.

Charlie glanced over at the pair, then locked eyes with Sam and gave a slight nod. It was go time.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam suddenly asked.

Dean glanced up from his half-assembled weaponry and quirked an eyebrow suspiciously at his brother’s all too innocent tone.

“Do you remember that party we went to in high school? The only party we really ever went to together?” Sam tried to be nonchalant.

“Yeah...my senior year. That really hot cheerleader invited me, and I had to bring you ‘cuz dad was hunting a skinwalker the next town over. I don’t really remember much after that game of, uh, semi-clothed twister.”

Dean’s cheeks flushed the slightest shade of pink when he saw Cas’ perpetual frown appear as he spoke, his eyes downcast. Dean didn’t have a weakness for those blue eyes. They weren’t even the bluest blue to ever blue. And they most certainly didn’t fluster him more than when Bobby yells at him. Really.

Dean sighed, annoyed with himself again.

“What’s your point, Sam?”

“Only that Charlie’s never played Twister.”

“Who hasn’t played Twister?” Dean’s head whipped around towards Charlie, “It’s like the most well known and frequently played party game.”

“I know what it is, Dean,” Charlie snipped back, “I’ve just never _played_ it. Thankfully, Sam says he has a copy somewhere. Only...we need more than two people to play it properly.”

“I’d like to play,” Cas spoke up suddenly, eyebrows high in excitement, “I always wanted to, and now there are willing participants.”

Charlie mentally high fived herself. _One down, one to go, and taking care of himself by the looks of things._

Sam and Dean looked at each other awkwardly, remembering the last time Cas had wanted to play Twister, but moved on. Well Sam did, Dean got distracted _not_ imagining Cas twisted into all sorts of fun positions.

“Well, this is your lucky day Cas. I found it the other day in one of the store rooms, because I guess even Men of Letters get bored. It’s in my room now, don’t move, I’ll just go get it,” Sam said, winking at Charlie when the boys couldn’t see and practically sprinting for his room.

Rather than continuing to drool over Cas while Sam’s cloud of dust settled, Dean shook himself and went back to cleaning his guns. Inappropriate images still flitted across his vision from time to time. He tried to push them away, but they were obnoxiously persistent bastards. Thankfully Sam returned before Dean could get too deep into his little fantasies.

Dean’s thankfulness drained away when he looked up and remembered why he’d been daydreaming.

“Alright,” Sam said as he glanced around the room. The two long tables took up the majority of the open space left by the bookshelves flanking the room.

“Cas, if you wouldn’t mind, could move that table next to this one please?” Sam nodded to the one not covered in weaponry.

Charlie looked at Sam, trying to keep from laughing as Dean practically drooled watching Cas push the heavy table over with one hand.

“Bottom!” She mouthed, her eyes glittering with delight.

Shaking his head, Sam gave her a look that plainly said ‘I have to deal with these idiots everyday.”

To keep from spoiling the plan, Sam slid the top off of the wooden box as he explained the rules to Charlie.

“So basically someone spins the dial and calls out the move,” he pulled out the brightly colored tarp, “For instance...right foot yellow,” with a snap he unfolded the tarp and guided its fluttering corners to the ground.

“Simple enough,” Charlie said with a shrug, “let’s get twistered!”

_Ah_ , Sam thought, _I’m starting to get the feeling that this is going to end so very badly._

 

Charlie had “lost” very early on, claiming a leg cramp that sent her tumbling within ten minutes. Sam legitimately fell only a few minutes later. Socks on a plastic tarp are never a good idea. He’d almost brought Cas down with him, but that would’ve ruined the entire plan, so in a feat of unrepeatable agility, he managed to roll out from the tangle and land flat on his front. Hard.

Dean had shown, in Sam’s opinion, and impressive amount of flexibility. Although given his propensity for “bendy” woman he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He was nothing compared to Cas though. Angel’s of the lord apparently came with rubber bones.

“Right hand green, Dean!” Charlie cried out, delighted by how well her plan was working.

She and Sam had been lying about the moves ever since they’d left the game. Secretly manipulating the weirdly flexible yet muscular men around each other. Positioning them into the perfect place for them to realize their disgustingly obvious lust.

Poor Dean’s downfall had happened at the worst of times. He was leaning heavily on his left side, foot on the far left yellow and hand on the green. His right hand was stretched out, reaching for the second to right green. His right knee was bent, trying to give him some extra reaching room. Cas was underneath him, face up. Both of his hands were on red, at the top right corner of the mat. His right foot was on the furthest left green spot, and his right leg was hooked over Dean’s left so that his toe could just barely touch the second to last yellow spot. In this position Cas was breathing right on Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. His crotch was also brushing up against Cas’ hipbone, and vice versa.

If he wanted to, he could just press right into him...

Remembering that Charlie and Sam were still in the room, Dean focused on thoughts of dead puppies and Bobby. He just had to lean a little more, further down, forcing himself to push into Cas. Really. He’d had no other option. He was in it to win it.

“ _Yes,_ ” he hissed, directly into Cas’ ear, having finally connected with the green spot.

“Ohh,” Cas breathed.

_Oops,_ Dean thought as he felt his dick perk up in interest, _dead puppies. Bobby kissing Crowley._

He was surprised by a sharp snort of laughter. So surprised, in fact, that his questionable balance was disrupted. He slipped. Flopped really. On top of Cas.

All of Cas’ breath was forced out of him as Dean’s chest slammed into his. Their pelvis’ were pushed together as Dean’s feet slipped out behind him. Ground together really. And Dean wasn’t the only one who was intrigued by the situation.

Cas was hard beneath him, and getting harder. Like he enjoyed it. Like mayb-

_Fuck, no, it’s just his vessel reacting, who wouldn’t in a situation like this?_ Dean thought fiercely to himself, unwilling to let himself believe. _Dead puppies, Crowley and Bobby, sour fruit…_

When he finally had himself under control again, he realized he’d been holding the same position for a rather long time.

Sam and Charlie were staring open mouthed at them. Sam in aghast horror mixed with exasperation and bemusement, Charlie with a look of someone who’s gayest dream had just come true.

Dean looked at them, surprise and confusion written on his face.

Then he saw the spinner.

Left foot red.

Left.

_Foot._

_**Red.** _

He was going to kill them both.

An hour later, Charlie’s face had been a silent mask of shock approaching ten minutes and Sam was sprouting a black eye. Dean had stormed off to his room, and Cas was sitting in the corner staring at Charlie and Sam. Still waiting for one of them to explain what happened.

When Charlie started snickering, Sam glared at her.

“What?” he growled with a hardly contained venom.

“Okay, maybe twister wasn’t the best idea,” she cackled with mounting glee and eyeing Cas, “but I’ve got an even BETTER idea now.”

“Nothing I say is going to stop you now is it?”

“No,” she chirped.

“Oh god...what have I done? What hellish beast have I released?”

He was answered only with Charlie’s renewed giggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys, it really kicked my but. I knew writing was hard, I just didn't realize HOW hard. Especially on the consistency front. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed it. Feel free to leave comments. All the comments. I live for your words. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll get the next (last?) chapter up there soon. :)
> 
>  
> 
> Just remembered! [ This](http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/1f/8d/fe/1f8dfe4a647cfa75ab013c6a4e2a2c47.jpg) is the picture I saw that inspired this whole crazy adventure I'm on.


	3. Loopholes and Galloping Moose to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...mind reading's a thing. 
> 
> It's kind of hella useful too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally done with this. I can't believe it. Dear lord in heaven...it was only three chapters. I have a long fic I'm working on too. 
> 
> (And I have this other _hella_ long fic in the works. Why do I hate myself?) 
> 
> But don't worry. I won't start posting until I've got it done. ANd then I'll torture you more regularly posting on a schedule. *evil cackle*

Castiel was very confused. 

He supposed he should be used to that by now.

With how much time he was spending with humans he had assumed he would start to understand them better. 

Oh how wrong he had been. 

If anything he was more confused than before. Sure, after that tv marathon with Dean he understood more of the references they made. Their interactions though, somehow made _less_ sense now. On the screen everyone followed a pattern, there was a predictability to their actions. There was also usually helpful little snippets of people explaining the various happenings. 

So he didn’t understand why Dean got mad at Charlie and punched Sam for laughing. He didn’t even understand why they were laughing in the first place. He really didn’t understand why Sam and Charlie were now sitting on the opposite side of the room from him darting glances and whispering like he couldn’t hear them. He was a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent and they didn’t think he could hear them from across the room? 

They were partially right. He wasn’t really listening to them. He was thinking over something he’d ‘overheard’ earlier. Something he’d overheard in Dean’s mind. Something that made several things over the past couple days fall into place.

Castiel turned himself invisible and walked out of the room. 

He walked right past Charlie and Sam who were emphatically arguing about whether or not they needed to find a feather duster, a watermelon and ballet shoes. He wasn’t sure what they’d need them for, and he didn’t feel inclined to ask them. 

He had his own mission. 

 

“Je-sus, Mary and Lucifer, Cas. You gotta warn a guy before you just blink in like that. What if sombody’d seen?” 

Castiel frowned. No one had been looking. He’d made sure of it. 

They were in a diner two town’s over. Dean was hunched over the bar swirling the ice in the remainder of his drink. It was the early evening, but already there were many patrons chattering over the music playing in the background. 

Castiel opened his mouth to speak. 

“So, Cas,” Dean interrupted, “what’ll you have? Pick your poison.” 

“I’m sure whatever you’re having will suffice,” he said sitting himself down on the stool next to Dean. 

“I dunno man, this stuff is pretty strong.” 

“I once consumed an entire liquor store,” Castiel reminded him, “alcohol does not affect me the same way it does you.” 

Dean waved his hand at the balding man behind the counter, “two more?” 

The man pulled an amber filled bottle and an extra glass out from under the counter. He set the glass down on the counter with a thunk and splashed a copious amount of the liquid into it and then walked to the other end of the bar. Castiel picked up his and gave it a tentative sniff before downing the glass. 

When he looked back to Dean, the man looking at him as if he were expecting something. 

“What?” Castiel asked, inspecting his glass as though he could find the answer there. 

“Nothing, man,” Dean shook his head and took a sip of his own glass, “I just sometimes forget how not human you are.” 

Castiel let him sit another moment before he decided the best course of action would be to just tell him. 

“I heard you earlier,” he said, studying Dean’s face for a reaction. 

“Heard me when?” Dean took another sip without looking over at Castiel. 

“When we were playing twister. I heard your thoughts,” Castiel ignored Dean when he started violently coughing whiskey from his lungs, “I heard what you were thinking about me. About my vessel.”

“Cas,” Dean choked out, but Castiel was determined to finish.

He wanted to get this out. He wanted to get it out before Dean could decide something ridiculous and try to deny it. 

“You can’t lie to me, I heard you thinking it. Normally, of course, I try not to invade your thoughts like that. However you were thinking very loudly, and you were right, I was...preoccupied,” Castiel paused only long enough to take in Dean’s expression. 

His shock and...fear? were quickly fading. Replaced with a blank expression, one Castiel recognized from their few hunts together. His serious face. 

“I was preoccupied because I was feeling the sames things you were. It was confusing at first, being attracted to you. I wasn’t used to feeling such things. Especially not so strongly, and so I’d like to, in light of your own attraction, attempt to pursue a relationship with you.” 

Dean tried again “Cas, let-”

“I know you’ve been opposed to a homosexual relationship in the past, but I’ve thought of a loophole that you may find acceptable. I’m not technically male,” Castiel charged on, flicking his eyes back to Dean’s face briefly. 

“Cas, c’mon, can I just-wait what?” 

“I’m not technically male,” Castiel repeated, eyes zeroing in on his hands before he powered on, “Angels are inherently genderless. I suppose you might consider us gender fluid, but our reproduction doesn’t really work with genders so even that doesn’t really make sense. If you really wished to-”

Castiel was interrupted by Dean’s hands touching him. One holding the back of his head steady, the other covering his mouth. 

“Cas, buddy, I really, really don’t want to talk about this here,” Dean was up close and in his personal space, “we should do this somewhere else.” 

Castiel could faintly smell the whiskey on Dean’s breath and count the freckles that dance across his nose. He could differentiate between the individual long eyelashes that framed Dean’s deep green eyes. He could map the exact curve of his bow lips and-

He could hear Dean’s thoughts again. 

_If you aren’t going to zap us out of here soon, someone is going to see us and we’re going to have to walk out of here like the awkward fucks we are._

Castiel pursed his lips behind Dean’s hand. 

 

When Dean blinked, they weren’t in the bar anymore. 

His hands moved to grip Cas’ shoulders for balance as he fought the vertigo of suddenly being standing.

“We are elsewhere, Dean,” Cas said, fixing his eyes on Dean’s, “may I continue now?” 

“No,” Dean said and then moved his grip on Cas’ shoulders, sliding one hand up to the back of Cas’ head.

“Was my loophole insufficient?” Cas asked, his face creasing with a frown, “do you require more persuasion or is there a different problem. If you like I can attempt to find more reasoning. Because I really believe that I can find-”

Dean tightened his fingers in Cas’ hair and yanked him in for a kiss just to stop the flood of words. He hadn’t thought angel’s could get nervous like that. He pulled their bodies flush and for a breath Cas stood frozen in shock, hands still by his sides, mouth and lips still. Then the signals made it from his body, to his brain and then finally on through to wherever the consciousness of a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent resides. 

_Probably still the brain_ , Dean thought absently. 

Then, the way more intelligent part of his brain said, _Dude, is this really what you need to be focusing on right now? You can ask Sam about angel brains later._

At which point he gladly lost himself in the taste of Cas’ lips and slow grind of their hips when Cas pushed him up against the Impala with a growl. 

Dean pulled away just enough see Cas’ whole face. 

“No loopholes needed, Cas,” Dean grinned cheekily. 

“It would appear not,” Cas replied with his own quiet smile, dilated pupils flicking around to different points on Dean’s face. 

“By the way, we are going to have a serious conversation about that not technically a male thing later,” Dean said dragging his nails across Cas’ scalp. 

Cas responded rather enthusiastically to that, sliding one hand under the hem of Dean’s shirt and trailing it over Dean’s ribcage, making him shudder. He accidentally grazed his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip and when that forced a low moaning sound out of Dean. So he did it again. Sucking the swollen lip between his teeth and flitting his tongue over it.

Dean was having a hard time remembering why he shouldn’t just undress Cas right there and suck mark’s all over his hard angelic body. A thought that made Dean’s increasingly hard erection twitch against his jeans. Who really cared if they were right outside the bar. Who really cared if anyone and everyone who left the bar could and would see them. Who really cared if they’d probably get arrested. 

Not Cas, that’s for sure. Whose hands were all over Dean, like he hadn’t rebuilt his body from the ground up. Like he he had to feel it to know every nook and cranny. 

_We should at least move to the backseat_ , Dean thought distractedly, his hands running lower and lower under Cas’ stupidly still present shirt. 

That thought too, was put on hold for a moment when Dean’s fingertips dipped below the waistband of Cas’ slacks and the angel whined. 

“Cas,” Dean groaned. 

Cas ignored him and pushed against him harder against the side of the car, chasing the friction greedily. Dean smiled and moved his hands around to Cas’ back, feeling the muscles there. Jimmy was stacked as hell. Then he ducked his head to Cas’ shoulder, mouthing at his neck, momentarily forgoing any other plans to suck a hickey into the soft skin there. 

“Cas,” Dean tried again, nibbling at his ear now, “babe, we’re kind of public, don’tcha think we should, we should...uhh…”

He trailed off and gasped when Cas shifted slightly and slid his leg between Dean’s legs so his thigh was pressed up against Dean in the most distracting way. Dean lost any coherence he may have still possessed at that point and dug his fingertips into Cas’ hips. 

After several minutes of increasingly loud and increasingly lewd public debauchery, Dean gathered enough resolve to push Cas’ hips away. 

“I need to breathe and we need to not be here,” Dean said breathing hard. 

“Why?” Cas asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Because anyone can see us and I don’t really feel like getting arrested tonight,” Dean snickered, “I have better things in mind. Things I want to do to you.”

Cas’ expression turned feral. 

“Dean Winchester, who says you’re in charge here? Who says you get to do anything but lay there while I do anything I want to you? Who says that you get any say in the filthy things I do to you? Who says you’ll be able to do anything but beg as I have my way with you?” 

Dean heard a strange high pitched noise over the static that filled his brain. 

Then he realized that it had come from him. 

And then he realized he was still making it. 

“Dean?” Cas frowned, “are you alright? Is that not something you would wish? I pulled it directly from your thoughts during Twister earlier. If you don’t wish to-”

“Cas,” Dean interjected quickly, closing his eyes to block out the disheveled and frankly erotic sight of Cas in his rumpled and untucked shirt, tie askew, coat half pushed off his shoulders, “please, if you want us to make it home in one piece, I’m going to need you to stop now.” 

Cas switched back into hot as fuck captain of the garrison mode. He stepped closer again, bracing his arms on either side of Dean. He pushed them up against the body of the car again and started nosing at Dean’s neck. Licking and kissing his way from one ear to Dean’s collarbone to the other ear and back again. 

“Oh fuck, yes,” Dean groaned, slumping in defeat and tilting his head back to give Cas better access. 

“Well, unless you can mojo both Baby and us, I think we’re stuck here,” Dean sighed as he slid his hands back under Cas’ shirt, eyes reflexively closing, “because I sure as hell ain’t driving now.” 

“Stuck where exactly, Dean?” Cas said into Dean’s neck, voice smug. 

Dean cracked an eye open. 

“Oh,” he said, glancing around the Men of Letter’s garage, “nevermind. Perks of hanging out with an angel I suppose.” 

“I may not understand all your references,” Cas said, giving him a teasing look, “but I hardly think this qualifies as hanging out.” 

“Oh shut up and blink us to my room,” Dean rolled his eyes. 

 

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, Sam, make it stop,” Charlie whined desperately covering her ears, trying her hardest to drown out the noises floating down the hallway, “I am very much a _lesbian_. This is the _last_ thing I want to hear.”

“How do think I feel?!” Sam moaned as he searched the room frantically for his keys, “that’s my _brother_ in there.”

“ _Saaaaaaaaaaaam!_ ”

“Got ‘em!” Sam crowed triumphantly as he bolted down the hallway with speed only attainable by galloping moose. 

“Oh thank GOD,” Charlie sobbed running after him as fast as her little royal legs could follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I'm relieved that I finished something for once in my life...I think I'm kind of going to miss having this to tinker with when my other stuff was getting to weird for my head.


End file.
